


Things change in a millennium or two

by melitta4ever



Series: Kinktober 2018 [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark, Hurt No Comfort, Kinktober, Other, Tentacle Rape, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 22:50:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16293338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melitta4ever/pseuds/melitta4ever
Summary: Castiel has been sleeping for a long time. He didn't think he'd ever wake up. Then, Dean falls into his cave.For Kinktober 2018, Day 14: tentacles





	Things change in a millennium or two

**Author's Note:**

> A very pretty drawing that I saw in discord is responsible for this story. Though, it turned out much darker than I intended.

Faint, but sweet and mellifluous; gentle, but spicy and woody… Castiel didn't know how to really describe the scent that had traveled into the depths of his cave. Just that it was enticing enough to wake him from his millenia long hibernation. He extended all twenty six of his limbs; rolling them out until even the smallest tendrils were free of creases, standing straight and rigid. 

It had been too long this time. His body was tired, willing to go back to sleep, to the blissful unconsciousness where he didn't have to remember how he was all alone in this world, how all his kinsmen were killed by the scourge. However, the scent was too alluring to pass. 

The water in the cave was cold and calm, a barely there deep current keeping it fresh. Castiel moved toward the opening of his chamber, squeezing his enormous body through the small opening, toward the source of that delicious smell. When he got close to the atrium of the cavern, he heard it. The mating call. His limbs started to move with a new found strength, going over and under the barriers as if there were none. He wouldn't let anyone else to answer that call. Castiel had been waiting for it his whole life.

 

* * *

 

The water was murky and deep; Dean couldn't reach to the bottom when he had tried to gauge the depth. Moonlight was reflecting over its dark surface, shining a faint light into the white, smooth walls of the cavern. 

“Dad!” he yelled when he realized there wasn't any way for him to climb up. It was, at least, ten-feet high slippery limestone to the ceiling. “Shit.” He was almost sure that no one could hear him.

The best strategy seemed like to figure out if there was a rock or ledge for him to rest on. Keeping out of this freezing water was a must. Until dad, or Sam, found him. They eventually would. In any case, Dean would feel much better under the sunlight, maybe even find a way up too.

That's when he felt something closing in, little ripples on his skin worked like an alarm. Dean pulled out of his knife, trying to figure out which way he should face.

He let out a scream when something bit him at right above his ankle. It couldn't be an alligator obviously, but motherfucker almost pulled out a chunk of his leg. It definitely would too if it wasn't for Dean's heavy jeans and quick reflexes. The knife slid in the animal, instantly killing whatever it was. The spilled blood, both from Dean and the hungry fish, made him nervous though.

“I hope you were the apex predator of this place,” he said while pulling out his knife between its bones.

 

This time Dean didn't even get the alarm bells ringing. He didn't feel the water stir, or his sixth sense tingle. Before he could hold on to his knife, something wrapped around his waist and pulled him. Dean screamed, trying to catch whatever holding him while trying to avoid inhaling the dirty water. It was squishy like a sponge, but slimier than a banana slug, slipping out of his palms.

He pulled at the giant suckers sticking out of that thing, using his nails to cut them out in hopes of scaring the monster. Unfortunately, another one if those things curled around his wrists, making him unable to fight. It didn't stop Dean from trying to kick and scream at the monsters. A Winchester didn't go without a fight.

 

* * *

 

His mate —it was his, Castiel would make sure of it— was really small; a short body with only four limbs. It must be so young. Castiel would think twice about its maturity if he didn't see the-most-bravest-mate attacking that animal, killing the ugly fish twice its size. It was, now, attacking Castiel with sharp tips of its appendages while making the most beautiful mating calls Castiel had ever heard. Castiel held on the-most-pretty-mate, securing its strong limbs. He still remembered how he had lost three of his arms during the last mating dance to an overzealous partner in heat.

Arriving the part of the cave that Castiel had claimed for himself, he wanted to enjoy his mate’s prettiness. However, the-most-eager-mate didn't want that; urging Castiel with its potent screams, it started to writhe in passion. Trying to control his pretty mate’s frantic thrashing, Castiel realized it had wrapped itself with some kind of cover which broke apart easily under his arms.

The scent, now that the-most-glorious-mate was naked, was almost too much. If Castiel had been a few millenia younger, he might have lost himself in thrones of rut, facing the pungency of it. The-best-smelling-mate’s calls increased their strength and urgency, forcing Castiel to hurry their coitus.

The-most-prettiest-mate didn't look anything like Castiel’s previous partners which was expected since they were all extinct. Still, it wasn't too hard to find out the mating hole; right between its lower arms. Even though the-most-loudest-mate kept hurrying him, Castiel realized he had to go slow. His mate wasn't producing slick. Castiel used his own secretion to ease the way. It was a slow process, even harder with his young mate's frantic thrashing. Castiel couldn't blame it though, he himself had done even crazier things when in heat, back in his youth.

 

* * *

 

The monster, apparently not plural, was too big and too strong for Dean to escape. He had been sure he was going to be eaten. Until long, strong tentacles left him naked and started pushing for an in.

“Fucking pervert!” groaned Dean, trying to free his hands or feet. “Find yourself a fucking lady monster.”

He couldn't see the monster; it was too dark, but it seemed that there wasn't any end of the tentacles. Two for his hands, two for his feet, two around the knees, one or two around his waist, one around his neck… and even some more digits trying to enter Dean where the sun didn't shine.

“No, you motherfucking, cock-sucking, shit-eating asswipe. I said fucking no!” Dean yelled at the top of his lungs; not that the stupid animal had understood anything. It must have been really horny to confuse Dean as its female partner. 

At the end, it didn't matter how much or how long Dean clenched his ass, the monster was too strong and persistent to fail. Dean's asshole yielded to the thick tentacle forcing in. He felt every single sucker popping in through his abused opening one by one, pulling agonized screams from his lungs. The tentacle in him was big and it was getting bigger, forcing his ass open wider and wider to accept it's girth.

The absolute worse, though, started when the giant suckers started to massage inside his channel, making his rape physically pleasurable.

“No!” he yelped, guttural and low; his voice had already lost its power. 

Dean knew, theoretically, a person's body might enjoy what's being done to them just automatically. His dad had drilled to them that together with the  _ No means no _ and all that tricky business. 

“ _ You're a good looking boy, yes. But you could be scary too, Dean. And not everyone has your training.”  _ Training… what training? Dean was crying like a little girl, now. _ “They might not slap you on the face, but just roll with it instead.”  _ Just like Dean was doing at the moment. _ “It's still rape and you don't want to turn into a human monster, do you, son?”  _

“Please…please…” he cried, not really knowing what he was begging for. 

  
  


* * *

 

The-most-delicious-mate tasted amazing. Its body was giving away a delightful secretion, covering all over its skin. Castiel placed his arms all over, covering his tiny mate's body with his arms, sucking every party of its perfect skin. That's how Castiel caught a little tentacle growing on the-most-strange-mate. The new one didn't grow as long as its other limbs, it was also secreting slime from a tiny hole.

Castiel had been waiting for his mate to produce slick...just...not from there. Was this where the copulation supposed to happen?

He tried the tiny opening with one if his smallest tendrils. It was a tight fit, but it wasn't impossible. And his mate went crazy, a lot more than when Castiel had stimulated its bigger opening. It must be a two-fold mating, Castiel decided, requiring both large and small limbs.

The inside of the smaller orifice tasted even better, his mate's flavor is more concentrated in there, packed with pheromones that drove Castiel crazy. He had to try all of his thirty tendrils one by one in that little piece of delight, covering himself with the taste and scent of the most remarkable mate.

Suddenly, his mate squirted a thick mucus right onto Castiel's tendrils and Castiel knew it was what would inseminate the eggs.

Just…

How the hell would the-most-amazing-mate lay the grown eggs from this tiniest opening?

 

**Author's Note:**

> I received the most wonderful idea from Snarkysnartles to finalize this. I just couldn't incorporate that here, so there will be a sequel. But after Kinktober is over.


End file.
